


Glitch

by DataSupremacy



Series: Tumblr Requests: NSFW [4]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, android virus, drunk android
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-20 07:08:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30001158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DataSupremacy/pseuds/DataSupremacy
Summary: Data's contracted a mysterious virus that has damaged his modesty subroutine.
Relationships: Data (Star Trek)/Reader
Series: Tumblr Requests: NSFW [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2206905
Kudos: 16





	Glitch

The door slides open with a muted hiss and in comes stumbling Data like a newborn fawn, all wide eyes and uncertain legs, making it three steps into the room before he comes to a dead stop and stares ahead at you where you’re curled up in the corner of the couch with a book in your lap. He throws up his arms and looks you dead in the eyes as he intones,

“Hello, lover!”

…And then he falls forward, flat on his face.

“Data?!”

Your cry of surprise isn’t the only one that rings out. But the second voice is full of more exasperation than it is concern and you look up in time to see Geordi, his hands up in the air in exasperation, come through the door next. Unlike Data, he’s steady on his feet and there isn’t so much as a glimmer of amusement in his expression. In fact, his forehead is pinched with what looks like exhaustion and he reaches down to pull Data back up to his feet with a gruffness that suggests that this is not the first time that he’s had to haul his friend back up to his feet today. But there is nothing at all that you can read from him that tells you why that might be and you let the book fall from your hands with a “thump” against the floor as you get to your feet.

“Geordi, what the hell is going on with -”

“Thank you, my friend,” Data interrupts you, clumsily patting Geordi on the shoulder as way of thanks before he starts to stumble in your direction, holding his arms out again and then scooping you up into a hug that lifts you off of your feet. You lose track of the room as he spins you around, faster than should be humanely possible, and making you stumble when he sets you back down. “Hello, darling! Did you miss me?”

“Geordi?” your tone comes out a little bit sharper; panicked, even. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing that can’t be fixed!” Geordi holds his hands up in a gesture of surrender and then rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well, I’m 99.9% sure that it’s fixable, anyway. He hasn’t tried, yet. I tried to get him to shut down so that his anti-virus could do a sweep and get rid of whatever is corrupting his programming, but he insisted on coming here. And, well, it’s kind of hard to win an argument with a guy who can bend steel like rubber.”

“He has a virus? Where did he get a -”

“Spot? Spot! Here, kitty.”

“-virus?” you finish, watching as Data nearly slams into a wall, adjusting his course half a second before impact and disappearing into the kitchen.

“The Enterprise encountered some abandoned ship. Data was part of the away team, made contact with the computer and… well, now he’s like that. I haven’t had a chance to look into it, yet. I couldn’t take my eyes of him. It’s like he’s intoxicated. I haven’t seen him act like this since… uh, since a while ago.”

“I haven’t seen him act like this, ever, so I guess you’re in a better place than me,” you fold your arms over your chest, overcome with worry… but also with the bizarre desire to laugh. “Any idea which programs have been corrupted? I mean, apart from whatever controls his spatial awareness…”

“Uh, well…”

“Geordi?” you press, when he hesitates. Is he… blushing?

“Based on the um, comments he was making? I think maybe his modesty program might be compromised.”

It’s a very small comfort to you that it wasn’t his mortality program that was damaged. It should have been a larger relief, you know, but most of it is overshadowed by the way that Geordi seems to be refusing to look directly at you and you can’t help but speculate about the possible “comments” that Data had been making. It’s a sharp reminder of when your relationship had first started and you had to implore him to keep his requests for advice on sex from his friends private, not brought up on the Bridge or in Ten-Forward where anyone could overhear. And that was several bases ago and with the programming in place.

“…Great,” you breathe, trying to will yourself not to blush now and make this any worse. “So, what’s the plan? He just needs to shut down and let his anti-virus do all the work?”

“That should do it. I’ve seen it fight off conditions worse than this. It’s just… he won’t shut down. He kept saying that he wanted to come here, instead. Maybe you can convince him to reset his systems? For his own good? If there’s anyone left on the ship that he might listen to, it’s you. Not even the Captain could talk him down.”

“Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“I wish I was,” Geordi smiles sympathetically at you. “But, hey. Maybe he just wanted to see you? I will say this, he is in a pretty good mood.”

“Geordi,” Data calls to him from the entrance to the kitchen, where he’s leaning uncertainly against the door frame. “I am an android. I do have moods.”

“Right. Sure you don’t, buddy.” Geordi’s expression is dry enough to catch fire in low heat before he looks back at you. “Listen, I gotta get back to engineering. We still don’t know why that ship is out there or what happened to its crew. You think you can handle this?”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice, do you?”

“I guess not. Listen, call me if he gets any worse or if the reset doesn’t fix him. I’ll come up with a plan B.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” you murmur, your gaze flicking to Data. He’s still smiling broadly, his eyes slightly unfocused. He’s doing something in that head of his, you just don’t know what. “Thanks, Geordi. I’ll keep you updated.”

He offers you one last smile and a thumbs up before retreating back out into the corridor, the door shutting firmly behind him and leaving you alone with your infected lover.

“Okay,” you say, clapping your hands together. “You heard Geordi. We just have to get you to reset. So, why don’t you come lie down in bed and do that?”

“I will go to bed with you,” Data says, swaggering over to your side. He wraps his arms back around your hips and pulls you tightly against him. “But not to reset. I have too many wonderful things to show you. Experience is the most important part of being human, is it not? And I have so much for you to feel…”

“Hooo boy,” this is not going to be easy, is it? You twist in his arms, struggling to face him. And, once you are, you cups his face in your hands and force him to look directly at you. “Data, you’re not acting like yourself. You must know that?”

“My self-diagnostic has revealed a corruption of my modesty program,” he confirms, turning his head to try and kiss your fingertips. “It has also acted as a stimulate to activate my sexuality programming.”

That… that explains so very much.

“Right. And those things are making you not act like you,” you speak slowly, as if explaining a difficult concept to a toddler, hoping that he’d grasp onto some of it instead of just letting it roll off of his back. “Which is concerning. To your friends, to your superior officers, and to me…”

“I do not wish to concern you,” Data turns his head and for a moment, his eyes are focused on you… but it’s not much of an improvement, not with the way that his gaze has become so very intense. “My only intention is to make you feel as much pleasure as you can withstand.”

You wish your body and mind were better connected because, while you’re trying so hard to stay rational, there’s a flood of heat that pools low in your abdomen at the sheer devotion he says those words with.

“Data, I can’t…” you take a deep breath, trying to remember just why you can’t. “…you’re not yourself, right now.”

“That is not necessarily true. The modesty program prevents me behaving in a manner that goes against the rules of a polite society. Who I am without it is just as much myself as who I am with it.”

“You wouldn’t be without it if you didn’t have a virus!”

“Then I would suggest a compromise,” Data says, after a beat of silence. He lifts you up into his arms without warning, pulling an involuntary squeal of surprise from your throat as he carries you to bed. He sets you down and then leaps to fall beside you, bouncing against the mattress. “I will comply with Geordi’s wishes and attempt to correct the faulty programming.“

”…Okay. I like the sound of that. When does the compromise kick in?“

"I will reset,” Data says, again. “But, first, I want to make love to you.”

“Oh, Data! Don’t say that!” you clap your hands over your face and groan.

You shouldn’t. There’s still the mystery of the ship that did this to him in the first place; the Captain relies heavily on Data’s quick thinking and calculations. Not to mention that you don’t know how extensive the damage is. But…

But when he makes a request like that, it’s hard to keep thinking rational thoughts.

“Would you prefer I use a different term for my intentions?” Data pulls your hands back from your face, gently. “Alternate phrases include sexual intercourse, coitus, relations, mating, fornication, copulation, fuckin -”

“Data!” you squirm against the bed, looking at him helplessly. “I meant, don’t say that because if you ask, I’ll say yes. And I shouldn’t.”

“I would prefer it if you would,” he sounds so soft and earnest. “But if you tell me no, I will not argue further.”

You know he means that. You could turn him down, make him patch himself up, and then return him back to duty… but his hands are so gentle when they touch you and you haven’t seen him yearn for anything like this but humanity.

You should say no.

“Data…”

But you don’t.

“Kiss me?”

You lean your face toward his and he meets you halfway, kissing you so deeply that you can feel the last of your resolve crumble in the same instant that you go weak. You’ve been overwhelmed by him before, by his clumsy attempts at mimicking learned dirty talk, by his sensuous but matter-of-fact language when he is just himself, by the way he calculates your body’s responses to things… but this isn’t like anything you’ve ever felt before. This is feinting touches of his tongue between your lips, of grazing teeth, of your helpless moans between each bruising kiss.

Data breaks away, but only so that he can kneel over you, grasping the hem of your shirt to lift it up and over your head. He then discards his own shirt in one fluid motion, baring the golden blush of his unnaturally smooth skin. You reach for him without realizing what you’re doing, only to gasp in surprise when he grasps your wrists in his hands, catching and holding you. His lips brush against your knuckles.

“My love…” he murmurs against your skin, his words tickling their way down your arms. Before you can respond to the feeling, he pins your hands above your head. “Be still.”

You don’t mean to be defiant, but the way that he hovers over you practically begs your hips to arch up and seek out the friction of his body against yours.

“I can’t…” you protest, when he uses his free hand to push you down flat against the bed.

“Try.”

He releases his grip on your wrists so that he can peel your trousers from your body, next. He tosses them aside and presses a hot kiss to your lower abdomen, causing your hips to tense and jerk.

“Data…”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he moves further down your body to nuzzle his nose against the skin of your inner thigh, giving you yet another gentle kiss before he pulls you down the bed, closer to where he kneels between your legs, and then hooks your knees over his shoulders, opening you up to him.

“Data!” you squeak out his name again and his golden gaze shifts to your face.

“…My mental pathways are accustomed to the way you say my name. Please continue.”

But you can’t say anything at all when he tastes you with a stroking, exploring, and very skilled tongue. A soundless cry contorts your lips as you grasp twin fistfuls of the sheets above your head. It’s not until he prevents you from rocking in time with the hot sparks of pleasure that his mouth brings that you cry out his name again, this time in dismay.

He’s unrelenting, even as you whimper and beg for more than he’s offering. It’s the sweetest torture you’ve ever endured and you have no way of knowing if it’s lasted for minutes or an eternity, reality has become as sweet and languid as cold molasses.

Pleasure builds into a crescendo and you toss your head back against the mattress, tensing.

But right as you feel yourself on the very edge of that precipice… he stops. The maddening, overwhelming, and demanding torrent of sensation ceases and you teeter back away from the edge, falling just short of climax.

“Don’t tell me that your sense of mercy isn’t functioning,” you rasp out.

Data puppets you easily, bringing your legs down to wrap around his hips and you use this leverage to tug him in closer.

“I am not causing you anymore pain than is necessary for your pleasure,” Data assures you, brushing your hair from your face. “Delayed gratification heightens the experience.”

You have half a mind to argue, but then he’s tugging his own pants down past his hips and he chases every biting, rebellious thought from your head with the first touch of the hard ridge of his cock to your slick opening. Mercy hasn’t settled back into him yet and he teases you with his length, sliding against your slick flesh but never quite entering; never chasing away that bitterly empty feeling you have inside and replacing it with himself. You’re left panting and desperate with shocks of sensitivity making your legs tense and your stomach clench.

“If you don’t get to the part where it gets gratifying soon…” you have no end to that threat, so it’s just as well that your voice breaks into a shuddering sigh, your lips trembling.

You don’t need to say more than that. The desperation in your voice and the strain in your body seems satisfy him. He rests one hand against your hip, holding onto you, while the other cups your chin and coaxes you to look at him. REALLY look at him, as he starts to press inside of you.

“Your body temperature is elevated inside,” he murmurs, once he’s all the way inside of you. “It is pleasant.”

And then he starts to move. Slowly. Too slowly, but there’s nothing you can do but take what he’s willing to give. Every withdraw of his body is languid, allowing you to feel every inch of him and you find yourself holding your breath just to concentrate harder on the sensation that as smooth as silk and hot as fire; on the touches that light you up like every nerve ending in your body is live wire sparking at his command. Tiny fireworks make up the patchwork of colour you see behind your eyelids… and it’s not enough.

You want more. You NEED it. “Data! Please!”

His lips touch your neck and your eyes flutter open as the next thrust of his hips is harder inside of you. You choke out a noise of approval and it comes again, that delicious feelings of perfection friction. The unspoken taunting of his body finally gives to the feverish wonder of slick skin on skin and the two of you moving in unison.

As much as you had begged him to hurry; to give you what you want and give it quickly, you never want this to end and wearily try to fight against that pressure that builds in the core of your being. You may as well have been trying to stop a planet’s rotation with the power of your thoughts for all the good it does you.

You climax with his name on your lips and the sound of his approval in your ears.

***

The comm badge on the table crackles to life with the Captain’s voice breaking the lingering silence.

“Captain Picard to Lieutenant (Y/N). What is Mr. Data’s status?”

You pull your bathrobe a little tighter around yourself and try not to sound too much like you’d had all the better sense ravaged out of you. “Unchanged, Captain. He -”

“This is Data,” you hear from the bedroom and from the comm at the same time. “My programs have been restored and I am now functioning within established perimeters.”

“Excellent. Return to the bridge at once.”

“Aye Captain.”

The line falls silent and you clamber off the couch to meet Data as he steps out of the bedroom.

“Data! You’re… okay?”

“All corrupted programs have been restored,” he confirms, still heading for the door. “I must leave, but I will return when the danger has passed.”

That sounds more like the Android you know and love. “It’s a date.”

Data hesitates at the door and turns back to you. He crosses the room in two strides and kisses you, quickly.

“I will endeavor to disable my modesty program during all future intimacy. It was… intriguing. Goodbye.”

He disappears out the door and you sigh.

Intriguing? That’s sure one word for it.


End file.
